


Heartlines

by tricksterity



Series: Ceremonials [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas, everyone's getting a little tipsy in the common room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 08:31:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5241674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tricksterity/pseuds/tricksterity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>So, apparently Blaise had contacts and Seamus still had a route straight out to Hogsmeade, and together they somehow managed to smuggle in a few bottles of butterbeer, a flask of firewhiskey and gillywater chasers. Ron rolled up his sleeves to reveal the swirling scars that surrounded his arms, white and shiny like stripes, just paler than his own skin and free of freckles. </i>
</p><p>  <i>“You think your scars are impressive?” Dean then piped up, rolling back his own sleeves.</i></p><p>Harry's not entirely sure how their drinking in the eighth year common room turned into a game of shag, marry, kill and then consequently into a battle of whose scars are the coolest, but that's exactly what's happening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heartlines

**Author's Note:**

> Chronologically, this is set directly after Strangeness And Charm, and much further on than Only If For A Night and Shake It Out.

* * *

 

 

So, apparently Blaise had contacts and Seamus still had a route straight out to Hogsmeade, and together they somehow managed to smuggle in a few bottles of butterbeer, a flask of firewhiskey and gillywater chasers. It seemed that Gryffindors and Slytherins could get a lot done together, and the only thing more terrifying than a Gryffindor-Slytherin team up was a Ravenclaw-Slytherin team up.

 

They weren’t on their way to getting hammered, exactly, not with Hermione sternly handing out gillywater to everyone after each drink they had and making sure that they all drank at a moderate pace, but that was mainly because NEWT exams were coming up and trying to study for those hungover would be hell. There’d be time to get smashed _after_ exams, and Harry was determined to get Hermione drunk.

 

Even still, it was nice to get a little tipsy with friends, all of them sprawled out on the floor and couches of the eighth year dorms. They’d managed to sneak in Luna and Ginny as well, because they were of age to drink now, although Luna really wasn’t behaving all that differently than she normally did.

 

Harry was comfortably sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with Draco while Ginny sat cross-legged behind him on the couch, her deft fingers nimbly braiding his hair into a French braid, which she’d do and undo over and over again, running her fingers through the strands. Draco would let out a little laugh every time she did that because apparently, according to him, Harry ‘purred’ when she did so.

 

Ron and Hermione were sharing the loveseat opposite them, and Luna sat perpendicular to Draco so her feet were in his lap, and that was definitely a friendship nobody saw coming, especially considering the fact that she’d been held captive in his basement for a notable period of time. Neville sat next to her, and Dean and Seamus shared the floor opposite them, leaning up against the couch like Harry and Draco were, and Blaise had stretched himself out along the couch comfortably and like he belonged there. House rivalries had all but died within the eighth year group, considering that they all had to share a common room and the dorms were no longer separated by house.

 

That, and Harry realised a little guiltily, he and Draco were actually the primary source of tension between Gryffindor and Slytherin for the past eight years. Now that they weren’t trying to curse each other every second of the day everyone else seemed to have followed example and had mellowed out. Houses didn’t matter outside of Hogwarts anyway, and they’d all probably end up working with each other in the future in one way or another.

 

They were the only ones still in the common room, everyone else had gone to get an early night’s sleep, and Harry had given Ginny his invisibility cloak so she could use it to take herself and Luna back to their dorms without getting caught past curfew.

 

“We should play truth or dare,” Seamus suggested, and everyone groaned loudly.

 

“ _No_ , Seamus,” Harry sighed. “Last time was a disaster, and I know you only want to so you can get information about me and Draco’s sex life – don’t even try to deny it.” Seamus tried his best to look perfectly innocent, but it was a little difficult when Dean was cackling away next to him.

 

“Besides, last time we did play, mate, you dared _yourself_ to make out with your own boyfriend,” Ron reminded him, shaking his head.

 

“ _I can’t believe you guys are making me do this_ ,” Ginny quoted in a bad rendition of Seamus’ accent. “ _You guys are so wild._ ”

 

“I certainly didn’t mind,” Dean piped up, and Blaise smacked him on the back of the head.

 

“Of course you didn’t, idiot,” Blaise drawled in the way that every Slytherin seemed to be able to perfectly imitate. “We could play shag, marry, kill, instead. That way we don’t have to worry about Seamus making an arse out of himself.”

 

“I’m in,” Ginny said, running both of her hands across Harry’s head, scraping her fingers a little down his skull, and Harry melted back into the couch to Draco’s delight. Everyone else chimed in with their agreement, and Luna placed one of the empty butterbeer bottles on the low table between them all and spun it. It slid to a stop on Neville, and Ron grinned.

 

“Okay, Neville: shag, marry, kill – Professor Flitwick, Firenze or a Venomous Tentacula?” Ron asked, and Neville flushed as the group laughed.

 

“He’s gonna shag the plant,” Draco mock-whispered to Harry, and Neville half-heartedly threw a bottle cap at him.

 

“Well I wouldn’t kill a professor,” Neville began. “I’d be taken to Azkaban. So… I’d marry Flitwick, but I wouldn’t want to shag a Tentacula because it’s spikes are deadly, so I guess I’d kill it… and I’d shag Firenze, because why not?” Harry spat out his drink and started laughing with the group, except for Luna who just sighed dreamily.

 

“He was lovely, wasn’t he?” she murmured, and Draco flicked her ankle.

 

“Lovely and also doesn’t have human anatomy on his lower half,” he pointed out.

 

“I’m not really into anatomy, you know,” she replied. “Except for in a scientific sense I suppose.”

 

“Why don’t you tell us about the anatomy of a Nargle, Luna?” Ron teased, and then made a strange squeaking noise when Hermione smacked him across the head. Luna just smiled, shook her head, and spun the bottle again. This time it landed on Harry, who groaned and tipped his head back into Ginny’s lap. She grinned down at him.

 

“Shag, marry, kill: me, Draco and Ron,” she said, and the group collectively _oooh_ ’d at her words, and Harry resisted the urge to yank her hair in retaliation.

 

“Well, obviously, I’m going to shag Draco,” Harry replied, sending a wink to his boyfriend. “I guess… I would marry you, because I think both Hermione and Draco would murder me if I married Ron, so… sorry mate, but I’m going to have to kill you.”

 

“Best friend for eight years and this is the thanks I get,” Ron mumbled into the rim of the flask, taking a sip of firewhiskey before he passed it over to Blaise. Ron then reached over to spin the bottle, which came to land squarely on Dean, who raised his eyebrows at everyone.

 

“Okay,” Draco spoke up. “Shag, marry, kill: the Fat Lady, Neville, or Augusta Longbottom’s stuffed vulture hat?” Seamus burst out into laughter at the question, spraying his drink everywhere, and even Neville couldn’t contain his giggles. It was impossible to think about that hat without thinking about boggart-Snape wearing it.

 

“Uh… well I don’t want to shag or kill Neville, so I’d marry you-“

 

“Thanks, mate.”

 

“-but then I don’t exactly want to shag the Fat Lady, nevermind the fact that I wouldn’t actually be able to-“

 

“Tear a hole in the canvas!”

 

“-gross, no thanks, so I guess I’m shagging Augusta’s hat and killing the Fat Lady,” Dean finished. Dean then kissed Seamus on the cheek, reached over and spun the bottle, grinning when it landed to a stop facing Ron. Hermione’s face lit up.

 

“Alright, Ron, shag, marry, kill: Harry, Griphook, or the brains from the Department of Mysteries,” Hermione said with glee, and Harry couldn’t contain the laughter that bubbled up in his chest, so much that he felt tears rolling down his face and had to take his glasses off to wipe at his eyes.

 

“I think those brains already shagged me anyway,” Ron joked, rolling up his sleeves to reveal the swirling scars that surrounded his arms, white and shiny like stripes, just paler than his own skin and free of freckles.

 

“I feel like I missed out on an adventure,” Seamus sighed.

 

“You think your scars are impressive?” Dean then piped up. He rolled back his sleeves and his socks to reveal thick hypertrophic scars encircling his wrists and ankles from when the Snatchers nearly killed him and dragged him off to Malfoy Manor with the rest of them.

 

“Damn,” Blaise whistled. “You deserve a drink for those.” He passed the flask over to Dean, who took a sip, who then passed it back over to Ron.

 

“Trade your scars for drinks, everybody,” Ron announced. Hermione immediately rolled up her sleeve and stuck out her arm to reveal the harsh, red letters that Bellatrix Lestrange had carved into her skin in the place of the Dark Mark. Ron passed her the flask, but not before he grasped her wrist and kissed each of the eight letters on her arm. She blushed and knocked back a sip, hissing as it went down.

 

“Who’s next?” she asked with raised eyebrows.

 

“Does this count?” Harry asked, pointing to the ever-present lightning bolt on his forehead.

 

“Nope,” Ginny replied. “New rule: they have to be war scars or scars you have received while at Hogwarts. And just tripping over something and getting a scar for it doesn’t count.” She then held out her hand for the flask and the flickering light from the fire illuminated the shining mess on the back of her hand where Umbridge’s blood quill took it’s toll. Hermione tossed the flask over to her, and Ginny took a deep sip, and Harry raised his left hand up to take it from her.

 

“We have matching scars, Gin,” he said, wiggling his hand that announced _I must not tell lies._

 

“Oh dear, don’t get jealous, Draco,” Blaise teased, and Draco rolled his eyes.

 

“Why would I be jealous of their matching scars when I’ve got some personally from Harry?” Draco shot back, lifting up his shirt to reveal thin white scars that lacerated his chest and stomach, crisscrossing over each other from when Harry had cursed him with sectumsempra. Harry leaned down and kissed each line like Ron had with Hermione, and passed the flask over to Draco with a kiss to his lips.

 

“Sorry,” Harry murmured against them, and he felt Draco’s lips turn up into a grin.

 

“Forgiven,” he replied.

 

“You know, I can’t quite tell if that’s romantic or horrific,” Neville noted.

 

“I’m next!” Luna said excitedly, whipping off her shirt without a care in the world as to who saw her bright red bra. She whirled around to reveal three jagged lines that stretched from her left shoulder blade down to her right hip, like someone had done it with a knife, but they all recognised the effects that diffindo had on flesh. She turned back around and pulled on her shirt, and Draco passed her the flask with an apologetic expression, knowing exactly who’s basement she’d gotten those in.

 

“I’ve got more,” Ginny then said. She unbuttoned her shirt and pulled it down her shoulders to reveal a multitude of thin, tiny scars decorating her collarbone and shoulders, as many as she had freckles. “Courtesy of the Carrows. They didn’t like that I was inciting rebellion among the populace.” Dean whistled at the sheer number of them, and Ron made a hurt noise on the other side of the room. Harry reached up and caught Ginny’s hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. It was his fault that she had those scars, technically, but she would never let him say that. She winked at him and took the flask off Luna.

 

Everything was quiet for a few moments, as they all waited for the next person with a scar to speak up.

 

“I’ve got another one, but it’s not one I really like to show off and it’s quite the downer,” Draco then admitted quietly, and Harry whirled around to face him, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

 

“You don’t have to, Draco,” Harry murmured, taking his hand, idly noticing how dark his skin was compared to the pale opalescence of Draco Malfoy.

 

“It’s better to talk about it,” Draco replied. Using his free hand he rolled up the sleeve on his left arm, revealing the Dark Mark still scorched black into his flesh, though where it used to ripple slightly on the skin it had gone completely still and dead. Surrounding the Mark were harsh, jagged red marks exactly like the ones on Luna’s back although on a smaller scale. Everyone in the room collectively sucked in a breath.

 

“Did you…” Hermione began to ask, but trailed off, unsure how to finish her sentence.

 

“Tried every trick in the book to get rid of it,” Draco admitted. “Nothing works, nothing will even _touch_ it. I just ripped myself up in the process.”

 

Harry pulled on Draco’s hand and brought the Mark up to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss right to the middle of it. Draco’s breath hitched the way it always did when Harry kissed it, because this Mark represented everything that had ruined Harry’s life, and Harry would kiss it anyway because he loved every part of Draco Malfoy.

 

“Damn, Malfoy, you win, here’s the flask,” Ginny said, breaking the silence, passing Draco the the firewhiskey. He took a sip and winced as it burned it’s way down and then raised a brow.

 

“I don’t know, Weasley, I think Harry might have me beat,” Draco said teasingly, and Harry dropped Draco’s arm in order to better glower at him.

 

“What’s he talking about?” Ron asked, and even Hermione looked confused. Harry sighed and leaned back against the couch, unbuttoning his shirt as he did so. Blaise wolf-whistled, and Harry gave him a sarcastic smile and then his middle finger. Harry finally unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it aside, revealing a scar that had everyone in the room fall silent.

 

In the middle of his sternum, a twin to the scar on his forehead, was a pale mass like he’d been hit by lightning, stretching outward in sharp tendrils of stark white on his bronze skin. It spread out in all directions, nearly crawling up his collarbone, a final gift left by his adversary.

 

“Present from Voldemort,” Harry said. “Apparently when the Killing Curse fails, it leaves a scar like this behind.”

 

“And you’ve got two,” Hermione breathed from the other side of the room.

 

“Bloody hell,” Ron swore. “You definitely win.”

 

“It was never a contest,” Harry smiled, buttoning up his shirt again, feeling Draco’s fingers on his thigh and studiously not thinking about what his lips felt like when he kissed the dead centre of his scar with gentle care. “Some scars might be bigger than others but we’ve all got them, and they’re all just as hard-won as each other. We’re survivors, and this is what we get to show for it.”

 

“Hear, hear,” Neville said, raising his bottle into the air.

 

“Hear, hear!” Everyone else cheered, and Draco passed Harry the flask so he could raise it up into the air along with everyone else.

 

Harry took a sip of the firewhiskey, and when he pressed his lips to Draco’s, Draco could taste it on his tongue.

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Because fuck yeah asexual!Luna Lovegood
> 
> **If you liked my writing and you're interested in me writing something for you, click[HERE](http://tricksterity.tumblr.com/post/140544637431) for more information! **


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